


pillow talk

by littleb0d



Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Size Kink, Spanking, gentle dom Greg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28853454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleb0d/pseuds/littleb0d
Summary: Richard Herring is many things, but not subtle.
Relationships: Greg Davies/Richard Herring
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	pillow talk

**Author's Note:**

> ty to sashataakheru for beta'ing and tag help <333

Richard Herring is a people pleaser, everyone knows this. He knows this, it’s his Thing after all. Weird little tryhard Richard Herring, that’s him. So it’s no wonder he ended up on Taskmaster, living his dream. A whole show based on pleasing a ridiculously sized man with a ridiculously sized ego? Piece of cake. Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy. 

Only, this is Richard Herring we’re talking about here, life is never easy when you’re Richard Herring. It certainly doesn’t help things when you call your host, and good friend,  _ daddy _ . Multiple times. In the first episode. And it  _ really  _ doesn’t help when he just goes with it, as if it’s all completely normal (it isn’t) and not at all weird (it is). He’s said worse, saying weird horny shit is his Thing, after all. That doesn’t stop him blushing like a schoolboy whenever Greg calls him ‘boy’, though. 

He wonders how Alex can keep a straight face, especially when Greg makes constant innuendos about their relationship. It’s just not fair, he thinks, ignoring that tiny voice asking why. He knows the answer, and so does Mawaan, who gives him a knowing look whenever he catches him squirming under Greg’s gaze. Mawaan corners him, of course, after filming episode eight and Richard is still reeling from the phrase ‘vigorous sexual liaisons with my personal assistant’. “It’s fine if you wanna fuck him, you know,” says Mawaan, sitting on the couch opposite. “What?” says Richard, because what else can you say to that?

“Greg, I mean. I’m not stupid. You have basically called him daddy.”

Richard blusters. “It was a joke! A funny, silly running gag. That’s all.”

“Sure, Jan.”

“Why are you calling me Jan?”

“It’s a meme, look.” Mawaan gets out his phone to show him the relevant gif. 

“Ah, I see.” He doesn’t, but Mawaan’s a person, so he wants to please him.

“Look, just shoot your shot, mate. Go get that dick.”

Richard squirms. “He’s straight, though.”  _ And so am I. In theory. _

Mawaan gives him a Look. “Dude, are you actually blind? That man is peak chaotic bisexual! Would a straight man ever sit like that? No. And have you  _ seen  _ him with Ed? They’ve shagged at least once. Period.”

Maybe he has a point, Richard thinks. “But—” he starts to say, but he’s cut off by an alarm on Mawaan’s phone. “That means we got five minutes ‘til we need to go back on set,” he explains, “And I need a snack, so laters. Marinate in my gay wisdom, yeah?” And then he’s off, scampering away with his cheeky grin and bold fashion choices.

Richard is left all alone, trying to play it cool, and then he remembers the prize he brought in.

Shit.

* * * * *

The joy of winning another episode is undermined by several things: pure unbridled mortification; his big, stupid, stupid mouth —  _ ménage a trois _ ; and then there’s the semi. Mawaan had noticed, of course, giving him an outrageous wink as Richard shuffled down the corridor with his loot.

But now he’s safe. Safe in his dressing room to stew in his own juices. Not like that! Okay, maybe a bit like that. It’s not his fault he rather likes the way pillow-Greg is glaring at him like he’s disgraced his entire family, and also the Queen. Pillow-Alex, on the other hand, has been relocated to a corner facing away from Richard. He just can’t bear to look at him right now, burdened as he is with his crimes against decency.

The vague notion of having a wank enters his head. He could. Nobody would know. No-one except Pillow-Greg, who doesn’t seem to approve of such things. Or perhaps, he wonders, Pillow-Greg might enjoy watching him be a needy little boy. His cheeks heat up at the mental image of Greg standing over him as he begs for release, or he’s praising him for holding on so well, for being such a good boy for him. 

Richard looks down to see, not surprisingly, he’s gone from a semi to a full on rager of a boner. Shame pools in his stomach, mingling with white hot arousal and it’s impossible to tell the difference anymore. He groans, sits on the couch, and puts his head in his hands. He briefly entertains the childish idea that if he can’t see it, it’ll go away and everything will go back to normal. Everything will be fine and, and… the boner is still there. It’s still there and he feels like a horny teenager again. They said it was just a phase, just hormones, but for Richard it’s never fucking stopped.

He just needs to get himself under control before he does something stupid. But the more he thinks about it, the worse it gets. He tries not thinking about it, but that just makes him think about it even more. The worse thing is, is that he knows he could fuck Greg if he wanted. He knows Catie would be fine with it, happy for him, even. He wasn’t exactly subtle about his little crush. And now he’s back to the beginning, thinking about Mawaan’s stupid wink.

Knock knock.

Richard bolts upright.

“Richard, mate, are you alright in there?” Oh no. That’s Greg’s voice. Oh no, no, diddly darn shit. “I’m fine!” Richard says, a bit too cheerily for a sane person. 

“You don’t sound it. I’m coming in.”

“No, don’t—” And it’s too late because Greg has swung open the door, and he’s standing there in The Suit, and Richard makes a noise that’s dangerously close to a whimper. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he squeaks. 

Greg looks him up and down. He raises an eyebrow. “What do you think it looks like?” His tone is warm, genial, but there’s a glint in those eyes that goes straight to Richard’s cock. It’s hidden behind the pillow, which would have been a relief if it didn’t have Greg’s face on. “Um,” Richard stutters, brain rapidly disintegrating into mush. “Erm, I— I was having a nap?” 

Greg chuckles. “Must be quite the nap to get you all worked up like this.” He steps into Richard’s space, clicking the door shut behind him. “Look, you’ve gone all pink. What a cute little you boy are. Makes me want to eat you all up.”

Richard freezes. “You… you want me?”

That earns him a proper delighted laugh from Greg. “Yes, I do. Thought I made that bloody obvious.”

“Oh. Right, then.” Richard doesn’t sound too convinced.

“You called me Daddy, and I ran with it. Didn’t that ring any bells?”

Richard droops, feeling like a lost little boy. “Sorry… Daddy,” he says to his feet. 

Greg gets impossibly close, tosses his pillow counterpart to one side, and holds Richard’s face in his hands, tilting it upwards so he has no choice but to look him in the eye. “It’s okay, you just got a bit excited, yeah? I’m quite flattered, really.”

“Yeah?—” And the rest of that is cut off by Greg’s lips on his, so soft and sweet for a man of his size. Richard just melts into his arms, making quietly desperate noises as he’s swept away by the kiss. Greg runs his hands over his back, past his hips, to rest on his arse. He gives it an experimental squeeze and Richard  _ squeaks _ . 

“God, you’re fucking cute,” Greg purrs.

Richard giggles like an idiot. “So now what?”

“I think Daddy needs to sort out his desperate little boy, yeah?” He cups Richard’s groin and the poor man quivers like a leaf. “Yes, please, Daddy,” he manages to stutter out under Greg’s gentle caresses.

“Tell me what you want, boy.”

The words are out before his brain can catch up. “Spank me.”

Greg’s eyes darken. “Oh yeah?”

“Please, Daddy. I’ve been such a naughty boy. I need you to show me how to be a good boy, please, please. Just wanna make you happy, Daddy.” He’s so eager he’s torn between bouncing on the spot and falling to his knees in tears. Instead he just settles for babbling.

“Alright, then. But if any of this gets too much, you’re going to say ‘red’ and I’ll stop, okay?” His voice is full of nothing but kindness and warmth, and that does more to Richard than a beating ever would. Not that he’d say no to a beating, of course.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good boy. Now, strip,” Greg orders. He settles onto the sofa and crosses one leg over the other. Richard’s mouth goes dry at the sheer power he exudes. He’s just so  _ big _ . Richard gets his thoughts together enough to take his shirt off, but he fumbles at his belt, earning a pleased chuckle from Greg. “Eager little thing aren’t you? Come here, let me help.” 

Richard does as he’s told, and Greg pulls him towards him by his belt loops and into another searing kiss that leaves them both breathless. His hand finds Richard’s belt, undoes it along with his fly, and  _ fuck _ — he’s finally touching his cock, already slick with precum. Richard is so hard it hurts, but it’s the best kind of hurt and— “Such a slut for Daddy, aren’t you?” Greg says, stroking him slowly. “Making all those pretty noises.”

“Oh god.”

“Thought you were an atheist, Rich.”

Richard makes a weird noise halfway between a snort and a moan, and it doesn’t matter because Greg is yanking down his trousers. Oh fuck, he’s very naked now and Greg looking is at him like he wants to devour him all. “Lie across my lap, then, you dirty boy,” he says.

Again, Richard obeys, and any feelings of foolishness are swept away when Greg squeezes his arse. He mewls, cock throbbing against the fabric of Greg’s trousers. Half of him thinks he might come there and then, but the rest of him wants to be a good boy and hold on. So that’s what he does, his face burning a hole through the sofa all the while.

Greg’s hand comes down gently at first, almost playful. Little slaps just to warm him up. He falls into a rhythm and already Richard thinks his brain might leak out of his ears. He wonders what colour it would be. “What a filthy boy you are,” Greg says in between strikes, “I know exactly what you were doing. You were going to touch yourself thinking about me, weren’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Richard whimpers.

Greg spanks him once, harder than before. “And what does that make you, boy?”

Richard trembles, barely able to string two words together he’s so turned on. “A slut, Daddy. I’m just a filthy slut.” 

“Damn right, you are.” Greg tangles a fist in Richard’s hair and spanks him again:  _ slap, slap, slap _ . Richard babbles out his thanks through breathy moans. He’s too far gone to care about being subtle now, rutting onto Greg’s lap for some sort of relief. Greg notices this (it’s hard not to) and runs his fingers through his sweaty fringe, saying, “You’re doing so well for me, boy. Daddy’s so proud of you.” And that does it, that completely and utterly breaks Richard. He’s broken down into pure unfiltered  _ need _ . “Please,” he says, feeling wrecked and filthy but more alive than a man his age has any right to be, “Please, Daddy, I n-need to come…” He trails off, his world shrinking down to this room, to this man pulling him apart at the seams.

Greg gives him one last spank before flipping him over, and sitting him upright so he’s spooned against his chest. “That better?” he asks, mouthing along Richard’s neck. “Yes, Daddy,” comes the shaky reply. The effort of not touching himself is getting to Richard. His face is wet with tears, but he needs to be a good boy. He has to. He shivers as Greg finally, finally touches his cock. “Such a messy boy,” he whispers. “Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna take care of you now.” 

His hand is so  _ big  _ around his cock, yet he’s so gentle, as if they’ve got all the time in the world. “Daddy, please, I need it harder, please, oh god,” Richard half-sobs. Greg nips his ear in response and gives him what he wants. It’s hard and rough and brutal, his hand nearly a blur, and Richard’s seeing fucking stars as he’s moaning and writhing on the Taskmaster’s lap. A hand snakes around to clamp over his mouth as he all but screams his way through an orgasm.

Richard opens his eyes. He’s stopped shaking. Greg is stroking his hair. It’s nice. He looks down. He’s covered in his own jizz. That’s less nice. But at least he can feel Greg’s dick, that makes up for it. “Can I help you with that, Daddy?” he asks in an attempt to be seductive. “I don’t know, can you?” Greg growls into his ear, and it makes his stomach turn inside out. “Yes, please, Daddy. Just tell me what to do,” he manages to say through his fuckdrunk haze. 

Greg kisses his temple. “Alright, then. On your knees, boy.”

“Yes, Daddy!” Richard says, beaming. He can’t help himself but give Greg another kiss before he scrabbles down to the floor where he belongs. His hands shake as he undoes Greg’s fly, eyes dark with a hunger he didn’t think he was capable of feeling. Greg’s so hard that his cock practically slaps Richard in the face, but he doesn’t care because  _ oh god he smells amazing _ . Musk and sweat and a hint of cologne. He wants to cocoon himself in it. 

“You okay down there?” Greg asks.

“Just… hnnng, cock.” 

“Don’t worry about getting it all—  _ Jesus fucking Christ _ .” Because Richard has somehow deepthroated the entire fucking thing in a matter of seconds. Greg stares at him as if he’s grown another head. “Where the fuck did you learn that?” he whispers, awestruck. Richard can’t reply, he was taught not to speak with his mouth full. He lets out a pleased hum that reverberates around Greg’s cock and goes straight up his spine. Greg, very carefully, puts a hand over his mouth and tangles the other in Richard’s hair. 

Richard gets the hint.

It doesn’t take long until Greg is coming down his throat, and Richard is just taking it as if it’s ambrosia from the gods. Not a single drop spills onto The Suit. He eases himself off Greg’s softening cock and climbs onto his lap. “Was I a good boy, Daddy?” he says, nuzzling his shoulder. 

Greg pets him, still not quite there. “Very good. Five points.”

“Does this mean I’ll win the series?”

“Fuck off.”

It was worth a try.

**Author's Note:**

> Herring if you're reading this: 1) hi!! and 2) hope it gave you a boner lol


End file.
